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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23002171">What the Fuck Am I Doing?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/XeraVinu/pseuds/XeraVinu'>XeraVinu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, California, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Healing, Oregon - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Thruhiking, Washington, outdoors, pct, trailtrash</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:55:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23002171</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/XeraVinu/pseuds/XeraVinu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally, after completing tech-school and free from an abusive past Rey Niima is ready to begin her life on her own terms...She just doesn't know where to begin. So why not walk 2650 miles from border to border until she figures it out.</p><p> </p><p>After over 10 years in the service, Ben Solo is thrust from the military world back into the civilian. Dealing with the struggles and horrors from 5 deployments, he hates everyone; but not as much as himself. Trying to put things into perspective and fleeing from the various therapy retreats his parents keep throwing at him, all he wants is to be alone and the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) seems like the perfect place. If only this annoying scavenger would just leave him alone.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kylo Ren/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey &amp; Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. It was her pack</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello Readers, </p><p>It is time to get this idea rolling. </p><p>I've never written before, so I am very open to hearing your input and advice as I develop this piece. </p><p>I have to apologize in advance for the language used in this chapter. I am basing a lot of language and themes for exploring PTSD caused by deployments and military contracts from my own experience observing my husband and other friends from our units.</p><p>With that out of the way....here we go~</p><p>-XV</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Chapter 1:</p><p> </p><p>There it was. After months of saving and scavenging craigslist for gear, the sight of it almost makes her cry. Sitting atop the pile of “lightly” used gear was a luminous green Osprey Exos Ultralite pack. This was the pack! The last of her gear checklist and the pack that would carry her from the Mexican border over 4,265 kilometers north to the Canadian border along the Pacific Crest Trail. </p><p> </p><p>Wetting her lips a brushing an unruly strand of hair behind her ear, Rey could hardly believe it. In “like new” condition, a pack like this was rare to find at the gear co-op sale, and she just knew it was a good omen that her trip was going to be a success. </p><p> </p><p>Reaching out with reverent hands she gently lifts the bag, inspecting the padding and fabric for any tears or signs of use.</p><p> </p><p>Fresh out of trade school where she was studying to become a mechanic, Rey had scrounged together every spare coin and dollar she had, working ungodly hours at her uncle’s junkyard, in order to take this final self-finding trip before she was saddled to working in a garage the rest of her life. </p><p> </p><p>Being abandoned by her parents to her Uncle Plutt, and the painstaking labor he forced on her to “earn her keep,” Rey never felt she had ever decided for herself. Every day was dictated for her. Wake up, open the yard, go to school, get home, cook dinner, check inventory, close the yard...rinse.cycle.and repeat. Hell even becoming a mechanic was all her uncle’s idea.</p><p> </p><p>But this, hiking from one end of the US to the other, was an adventure all her own. Her chance to choose how her day was spent. Her chance to see a world outside of motor oil and four shabby walls of a double-wide trailer.</p><p> </p><p>Wiping a quick tear from the corner of her eye, she gazes in admiration of the bag. ‘This is it. I am really going to do this,’ she thinks. </p><p> </p><p>Turning the pack this way and that her brows begin to furrow, ‘What the? Where is the price tag?’</p><p> </p><p>Looking up and around for a sales clerk, Rey quickly sets the bag down onto the display table. Spotting a name tag and friendly smile. Raising her hand in a quick wave for attention the pack is suddenly snatched away from her. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” she begins to protest turning directly into a solid chest. Startled, she jumps back taking in the thief. </p><p> </p><p>If the prince of the underworld, Hades himself was living and breathing, this would be him. The definition of tall dark and handsome.</p><p> </p><p>‘Bloody hell,’ is her first thought in astonishment. Long locks of hair black as ink gently frame and caress his harsh features. A strongly defined nose. A sharp jawline, speckled with beauty marks. An imposing height dwarfing her 5’7” frame. Moving down to his broad shoulders oozing power, she follows the map of thick veins down his arms to...</p><p> </p><p>“Can I help you?”  a rough voice breaks her concentration.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh..” seeing the condescending smirk on his lips snaps Rey back to the current situation. Quickly glancing down she sees him holding <b>her</b> pack! ‘Oh, hell no.’ plastering on her best customer service smile she says, “Um..you took my pack.”</p><p> </p><p>A thoughtful look crosses his face as he takes her in and then looks at the pack before returning his gaze to hers with a single eyebrow raised.</p><p> </p><p> “Did you buy it,” he challenges.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I was about t…” she begins.</p><p> </p><p>“So, you didn’t buy it,” he states.</p><p> </p><p>“Like I was trying to say, I was just abo..”</p><p> </p><p>“Then it is fair game,” he smirks</p><p> </p><p>Jaw slightly slack in shock, ‘Is he serious’ she fumes. ‘You gotta be kidding me.’ bringing a hand up to her temple Rey can feel the beginnings of a migraine forming. </p><p> </p><p>“I literally had it in my hands while I was calling someone over,” she glares meeting his stare.</p><p> </p><p>His already dark eyes deepen in amusement; shifting his weight, he leans against the display table so that his body is facing her straight on. “Funny. Then how is it in my hands now?” he teases. </p><p> </p><p>Reaching out Rey grabs one of the shoulder straps and gives the pack a quick pull. Without breaking eye contact with her, he quickly slams his hand down, pinning the pack to the table. Trying not to jump at the sudden noise, Rey sees the amusement he had before giving way to anger in seconds.</p><p> </p><p>“Let. Go,” he growls.</p><p> </p><p>He was a bully. This grown man was trying to bully her out of her bag like some kid would for milk money at recess. And if Rey hated anyone more than her Uncle Plutt, it was a bully. Stepping into his menacing scowl, “I’m not giving you anything,” she bites back while giving the strap another futile tug. </p><p> </p><p>His glare intensifies with barely concealed rage. Sinister almost.  Suppressing a shudder, she feels his penetrating gaze rove down her body and back, sizing her up. A muscle in his jaw ticks. Leaning in towards her ear he threatens quietly, “You know I can take whatever I want.”</p><p> </p><p>Now that does scare her as he pulls back. Before Rey can make the fatal error of striking him across the face just as her itching palm wants, an overly cheery voice breaks the tension, “Hello folks! How can I help you today?”</p><p> </p><p>Two pairs of brooding eyes shift towards the oblivious sales attendant. Ever slowly Rey and the stranger straighten and step apart</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, he was..” she begins. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes I’d like to purchase this,” he interrupts with a final jerk of the pack freeing it from Rey’s grasp. </p><p> </p><p>Rey glares, ‘Prick!’</p><p> </p><p>“Why yes, right this Sir,” the attendant gestures towards the front of the store and begins walking away.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey! I was going to get that. I saw it first!” She snaps, while quickly blushing by how childlike her tantrum sounds. But it was <b>her</b> pack!</p><p> </p><p>The man quickly fixes her with a glare of annoyance now.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh come on! It won't even fit you,” She gestures towards the pack.</p><p> </p><p>Taking the time to look at the pack and then taking in the towering man, the attendant begins, “Well…” before a glare from the man has the sales attendant fumbling. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, there are other great packs available at today's sale. My apologies,” the attendant hurriedly explains trying to appease Rey before quickly leading the man to the register.</p><p> </p><p>‘Aargh!’ She wants to scream as she watches that man, ‘No. Monster!’ walk off with <b>her </b>pack. It isn’t fair!</p><p> </p><p>Cursing under her breath she turns back to the display in despair as she begins to sift through the pile looking for the cleanest and least frayed option. </p><p> </p><p>------------------------</p><p>Seeing the girl’s sneering face as he walks away puts a small smirk of victory on Ben’s own. It wasn't that he intended to insight a fight with the girl when he approached. And he even considered asking her out for a drink once he heard her voice. ‘Damn her British accent is sexy though,’ he muses.</p><p> </p><p>When he first entered the store he was simply just looking to get an extra tarp to cover his tent and be gone, until he saw her. Something about her lightly freckled cheeks and the way she smiled while looking at the packs on the table just drew him in. As hair escaped her messy bun and fell into her eyes he could feel his own hand twitch the slightest, wanting to be the one to tuck it back behind her ear. </p><p> </p><p>But, then she just had to be so fucking stubborn about the freaking pack. He didn't mind at first. But her spoiled fit and attitude just pissed him off. </p><p> </p><p>"I fucking hate people," he grumbles under his breath as he pays for the pack and walks out to his jeep. </p><p> </p><p>Recently back from his 5th and final deployment, military contract or whatever you want to call it, he knew mentally he was still trying to adjust to being in the “real” world again. But,</p><p>“God damn it! It was just a fucking bag,” he yells out in frustration slamming the steering wheel. </p><p> </p><p>His jeep was nice and brand new; fresh off the lot. One of those knee jerk dumbass purchases you make when you finally see all the money accumulated while touring abroad. Nice leather seats, black trim, a nice sound system. That money can buy a lot of nice things. But, it couldn’t buy your friend’s life back or fix your shit relationships with parents who don’t get it. </p><p> </p><p><b>That</b> was what he hates the most about being back “home.” No one gets it. Yeah, you’ll hear a ”Thank you for your service,” like that makes up for everything. No one gets how one day during a patrol with your buddies and a plastic bag on the side of the road turns into an IED, and suddenly you are picking up body parts of the friend you were just bullshitting with on the radio, or how mom’s cherry jello she made for the welcome back bbq looks just like blood when it coagulates on the corpses left on the side of a road after some Al Qaeda fighters roll through, or and the smell of rotting flesh in the desert sun is burned into your nose.</p><p> </p><p>Worse of all is the fucking sand. It isn't like nice sand you'd see at a beach. No, it's a fine silt, that gets into fucking everywhere. Even now, he can still feel the silt baked onto his fingers crusted with dried blood. ‘Damn,’ it's in his hair too. </p><p> </p><p>Reaching up Ben begins to scratch his scalp. As his fingernails comb through his long hair he can feel the silt shaking out onto his shoulders. But the more he scratches he feels it clinging to the sweat on the back of his neck and it begins to burn in the hot sun. ‘God it is hot as balls out here,’ he thinks. He can hear his own blood rushing and his heart pounding.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly his whole body is rocked as an IED explosion goes off somewhere to his left. The sun is too bright and blinding, and his ears keep ringing. He reaches for his sidearm and begins to panic when he feels a bare thigh, ‘Fuck, where is it!’ </p><p> </p><p>Frantically he grips his chest for the security of his vest only to touch a thin t-shirt. Where the fuck is his kit? Another explosion goes off to his left and all Ben can do is flinch and prepare for the impact of shrapnel.</p><p> </p><p>“Sir!”</p><p> </p><p>‘....What?’ he questions looking up and around him. He isn't in the desert, and he isn't in the sun, or even on patrol for that matter. He is just sitting there, in his nice new jeep; with nice leather seats and black trim.</p><p> </p><p>Out of his windshield, he can see couples and families walking between the shops and their cars, laughing and talking as if nothing has ever gone wrong.</p><p> </p><p>“Sir, are you okay?” someone calls to his side.</p><p> </p><p>Glancing through the driver side window he sees the sales clerk from earlier waving and knocking trying to get his attention. Cautiously he rolls down his window, “Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“You left your card at the register, Mr. Solo,” the sales attendant helpfully holds up a plastic card with the letters USAA Stamped along the bottom. Smiling the clerk hands the card over to Ben. </p><p> </p><p>“ And thank you for your service,” the clerk quickly adds. </p><p> </p><p>“Uh..yeah. Sure. Thanks,” Ben mumbles quickly never really knowing just how to respond when people say that. </p><p> </p><p>With a quick wave and a smile, the clerk turns around and runs back towards the store. As Ben watches the clerk go his eyes land on that girl again as she is leaving. She is carrying what once must have been a white pack but is now more of a hazy beige obviously soiled from previous use.</p><p> </p><p>‘Good,’ he thinks. ‘Spoiled brats shouldn't just get whatever they want.’</p><p> </p><p>Looking over at the pack he threw into the passenger seat, he pulls it into his lap. Chancing a quick glance up at the girl as she mounts what looks to be a rusted-out barely street-legal motorbike, he looks back down to find a white tag attached to the hip belt.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Size: SMALL </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Damn.” </p><p>He can't help the chuckle that springs forth as he tosses the pack back into the passenger seat. ‘She was right.’ He keeps chuckling to himself until it's almost full-blown laughter.</p><p> </p><p>Feeling a warm sensation along his cheek, Ben raises his hand to his face. Pulling away to see his fingertips wet, and suddenly his chuckle lets out a sob. Pinching the bridge of his nose together and squeezing his eyes tight, he wills the tears to go away.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn,” he croaks. He forgot his goddamn tarp.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello to whoever is still reading this. </p><p>I apologize for the long delay. Between everything we are all suffering through together and some personal stuff, I haven't been able to update as I'd hope. </p><p>The PCT was also closed down this year for thru-hikers and that.....really....just freaking sucked some of the excitement out of me in getting this story from my notebooks onto AO3.</p><p>But for those who stuck through with waiting, a HUGE thank you!</p><p>Although I don't have a beta I am gonna try the best I can to get these chapters out for you with as little mistakes as possible.  </p><p>I also apologize for any mistakes regarding USMC. I am familiar with the working of the ARMY and private contracting, so if I make any major errors regarding the Marines please let me know. Please also include your favorite flavor of crayon as well ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s like that first day of school. When there is the confusing bubble of excitement in your stomach with the optimism of what the new year will bring, accompanied by the clenching nervousness in your throat about the ‘what if’s’ ending badly. </p><p>Rey could hardly sit still in her seat on the shuttle as the border wall cast a long shadow over the road. ‘This was it.’<br/>
After a year of planning, collecting gear, and jumping through hoop after hoop to get her tourist visa approved, she was finally starting on this journey.</p><p>Sitting on her hands to keep them from bouncing around on her lap, she took in the nervous chatter of the other hikers in her group. She never was much of an extrovert given her upbringing, but looking around at the other hikers all eagerly chatting about hopes for the trail, she couldn't help to wonder if hikers from this group would soon become part of her hiking family. </p><p>‘My hiking family…’ she thinks; a small smile of excitement gracing her lips. If she was honest, this was what attracted her to the thru-hiking world. In preparing she read story after story of hikers fondly retelling the adventures they had with other hikers met along the trail, and how after overcoming so many obstacles, they eventually became this family unit. </p><p>Being left in an emergency hospital lobby by her mother and then bouncing around from one foster burro to the next, until her “uncle” stepped forward to claim her, Rey didn't quite feel she knew what a family was supposed to feel like. But out here, maybe she finally could find one; find a place where she wasn't alone. </p><p>“Alright, everyone! Here we are!” The volunteer driver announced. </p><p>Slowing down, there wasn't much to see so early in the morning. The sky was barely starting to lighten with the promise of a blazing sunrise within the next hour; but besides that, there was the dirt road, a tall steel wall separating the US from Mexico, and the PCT marker.</p><p>Rey kept to herself as she waited her turn to step out of the van. Everyone's packs were in the back and there seemed to be a joint consensus that for all the hikers starting on her assigned day to take a group photo in front of the monument.</p><p>“Come on everybody, let's get ya on the trail before the heat kicks up,” yelled the driver as he opened the back of the van. </p><p>‘What heat?’ Rey thought as she pulled her puffy jacket closer around her body while waiting for her turn. For being end of March, the air had a crisp bite to it. ‘I thought this was supposed to be as hot as the desert in movies.’</p><p>As the packs began to be handed out Rey took the time to examine the PCT marker. The five pillars were cool to the touch as she gently followed the inscriptions with her finger. Assuming this was her only chance before the others ran over, Rey placed her hand above the pillar stating, “Mexico to Canada, 2627 miles, 1988 A.D.” pulling out her phone she took a quick photo, examining how clean her nails looked alongside the inscription. </p><p>‘In the end, how much will I have changed?’ she can't help but get lost in thought of how this trail will affect her in the end. </p><p>“NIIMA! NIIMA?!” someone yells behind her.</p><p>“Coming!” she yells back. </p><p>Jogging up, she thanks the volunteer as he helps her into her pack. </p><p>“You uh….ever done something like this before?” he asks, a slight hesitation to his voice. </p><p>“Nope!” too delirious with nerves and excitement Rey happily responds while clipping her hip belt around.</p><p>“You got duck tape?” the volunteer tries again, hoping to get her attention.</p><p>“Nope, do I need it?” pulling the cinch tight Rey looks up.</p><p>“After the first 10 miles or so you'll find a Hiker bin. Better check it for some,” he advised, while gently poking a frayed edge on her pack.</p><p>Rey’s face heats up in embarrassment. After that jerk from before stole her bag, she had to settle for the next lightest option. It was a classic some may say….she called it junk. And she would know. Unfortunately, the previous owner did not fully honor the “in-good condition” clause of the return, but not much she could do about it now.</p><p>With a quick nod of her head and thanks, Rey jogged over to where the other 10 hikers were gathering to surround the marker.</p><p>“On the count of three I wanna hear you all yell P.T.CEEEE!” the volunteer smiles while holding up a camera. </p><p>She couldn't stop the smile on her face from spreading as everyone yelled out and smiled.<br/>
‘Here we go!’</p><p>----------------------------------------</p><p>Three days. It had only been three days since she began her first mile, and Rey was seriously starting to regret this.</p><p>‘What the fuck am I doing? What the Fuck, am I doing? What. The. Fuck. Am. I. Doing??’</p><p>“What the fuck are you doing?” a gruff accusation comes from behind her. She would have turned to look and see who was being such a prick if she wasn't in a staredown with a coiled up rattlesnake glaring from the middle of the trail. </p><p>“What’s it look like?! I am trying not to die!” she retorts in panic while gripping one of her trekking poles in front of her like a saber. The other is somewhere on the ground where she dropped it after hearing that horrid sound of a death rattle right before she would have stepped on the devil’s personal pet. </p><p>“So what? You're gonna try to hack it apart like a lightsaber?” He snaps back.</p><p>“Well, Do you have any better ideas?” </p><p>“Here. Give me that before you piss it off anymore.” A single hand reaching around her engulfs both of hers as the stranger slowly pulls the default weapon out of her grasp. Given any other situation, Rey would have flinched from a stranger so confidently touching and invading her space. But the freaking devil incarnate wouldn't move. It just sat there staring into her soul with its hateful beady eyes. </p><p>Sparing a single glance trying to get a glimpse of her…...savior? Only to see a broad chest and sweaty tan T-shirt. Following the chest up..up...and up ‘Geez who the hell is the size of a mountain?’ She barely gets a glimpse of a black baseball cap when another rattle from the snake before has her full attention again. </p><p>“All your jumping around is making it nervous,” The savior explains.</p><p>“Well, its fangs and aggressive attitude are making ME nervous!” Rey bites back.</p><p>“Just breathe and follow,” he instructs as he slowly bends down picking up her forgotten trekking pole with one hand and grips one of her backpack’s shoulder straps with the other. As they both keep their eyes on the rattlesnake, the stranger deftly drags Rey with him off the path giving the snake a large breadth and slowly making their way around it. </p><p>As they back away, the snake takes the opportunity to slither quickly off the trail in the opposite direction and soon Rey and the stranger are once again alone on the trail. </p><p>Seeing the danger is passed, the mystery man snatches his hand back as if burned and shoves Rey’s trekking poles back into her arms. </p><p>“Some advice. Quit. If you can’t handle one rattlesnake you shouldn’t be on the trail, Other backpackers don't have time to save your ass” Mr. Tall, Dark, and Total Asshole accuses. </p><p>‘This jerk!” He doesn’t even know the things she’d been through or anything about her. ‘I’m not weak!’ she wants to scream at him. But this is the first person Rey has talked to in three days, or even seen since beginning the trail back at Campo. And even if it isn't the best of conversations, anyone would be starved for the interaction.</p><p>“Thanks for the advice,” Rey grumbles as she checks over her pack and gets adjusted to begin walking again.</p><p>“There is a trail town about 20 miles from here. You can hitch in on the highway and go back to whatever pampered city life you came from,” he throws over his shoulder as he begins walking on the trail ahead. </p><p>‘What the fuck?’ By the time she looks up to retort he is already a hundred meters ahead. With long legs like that she’d need to run to catch up to him. </p><p>“Asshole!” she yells after him. His reply is a middle finger in the air. And then he is around a bend and disappears from sight.</p><p>‘Great. I thought it was going to be this life-changing adventure. All I heard were stories of how wonderful the hiking community was, wonderous views, and the happiness of trail magic. So far...I've had dust and sand in my teeth from the desert floor, rattlesnakes in my path, and coyote screams haunting my nights, and the first person I meet is a complete and utter prick.’</p><p>Checking the map it showed Rey was about 5 miles from the next water source and then another 3 from there until camp. After already putting in 9 miles so far since starting out t ‘It will be a stretch, but I think I can make it before nightfall…’</p><p>With a quick splash of some water to her face and a deep breath, she begins walking.</p><p>----------------------</p><p>‘Was this really a good idea?’ Ben questions. As he thunders around another turn in the switchback descending the mountain.</p><p>The point of this trail was to help him feel more at peace, stop the night terrors, and pounding in his head. But he just couldn’t stop scanning every tree, berm, or boulder could be where a potential enemy was hiding. </p><p>“Doesn't help this fucking desert looks the same... fewer goats” he murmurs to himself.<br/>
The physical toll wasn't getting to him like the other hikers he had passed by so far. While most had been on their 3rd or 4th day and only clocking in about 13 miles a day, Ben was used to this weather and had kept his steady pace of 22 miles per day since starting yesterday. </p><p>While others had to take frequent rests or stop to pop blisters from too tight of boots, Ben’s feet were hardened from years of rucking. Ultimately the only real challenge he felt the trail had was just the mental triggers that kept his mind diving back into memory after memory of patrols from Afghanistan.</p><p>So far he had dissociated three times. Spans of miles he’d walked and wasn't even aware, his mind lost in a fog. One moment he’d be noticing a lizard jetting across his path and remember the giant desert monitors that would wander into the wire. </p><p>By the time he’d look up, he may have lost 30 minutes to an hour and be somewhere on the trail he didn't remember arriving at. </p><p>This time when he came back to himself, Ben realized he wasn't alone. Not too far up the path from him was a young man, maybe mid-twenties, napping in the shade of an overgrown bush. Quietly observing the man as Ben approached he took in the hikers' soiled white t-shirt that clashed with his skin that was darker than any touch of the sun could produce. Although his hat covered his face, the man’s hair was trimmed close to the scalp with only a little length on top. </p><p>‘High and tight huh,’ Ben noted. Another military guy, noting the charging flag printed on the right shoulder.</p><p>As Ben approached the hiker slightly moved his cap out of his face and squinted up at him. </p><p>“Hey….how much water you got with you?” the hiker asked.</p><p>Ben stood in silence, staring down on the stranger while he considered. Ben did not necessarily want to make friends here. But besides the short interaction with the girl and the snake further up the trail, Ben was beginning to be seduced by the notion of talking with someone.</p><p>“I’m not sure. A Kylo or so,” he responds reaching back to pull off the water bladder he had sitting on the top of his pack absorbing heat from the sun.</p><p>“Kylo? You mean a Kilo?” the stranger snorts while sitting up to really take Ben in. Scanning his eyes from Ben’s tan boots and working his way up until he sees the bold USMC proudly printed on his T-shirt.</p><p>Whistling out, “Wow, you boys are built but you Marines really aren’t that smart.” The hiker offers a gleaming smile that quickly melts off under the heat of Ben’s glare.</p><p>“You sure don't know your place talking like that to an officer. Thought the Army would know how to train their infantry better” Ben shoots back. Not that rank really mattered out here, but his embarrassment from his mispronunciation had him feeling a bit bitter.</p><p>Back peddling quickly the young man jumped to his feet a salute at the ready, “I..I am sorry sir!”</p><p>Judging from the kid's quick jump to formality especially to a stranger from another branch, it was easy to determine the kid’s lack of experience, ‘never deployed.’ Ben quickly summarises. </p><p>Without another comment Ben hands his water bladder over for the kid to refill his bottle, only to be a little shocked as the kid begins to guzzle the water straight from the bladder. With water splashing down the front of his shirt, the other hiker quickly realizes his mistake and wipes his chin with the back of a hand. </p><p>“Thank you, Sir.”</p><p>“Ah, yeah. Whatever.” Ben dismissed as he takes the bladder back and straps what is left to the top of his pack. </p><p>“Stormer, Sir.”</p><p>“Excuse me?” Ben questions, quirking an eyebrow at the kid. </p><p>“My name Sir. Storm. Finnegan, Stormer”</p><p>“Solo.” Ben reciprocates. Hefting his pack back onto his shoulders he turns to begin back on the trail. With the recently emptied water bladder, the pack is lighter, but that means Ben needs to stop at the next water source that is a couple of miles off of the trail. </p><p>The shuffling behind him lets him know Stormer is racing to get his pack together and begin following Ben. ‘Great,’ he thinks, ‘now I am a babysitter.’</p><p>As Ben begins his new journey towards the nearest water source he grinds his teeth trying to keep from exploding at the kid trailing every step he takes. Each crunch of gravel under their boots irks Ben the wrong way. The kid’s steps are way too loud and will give away their position. Ben fights to focus and keep himself from scanning every hill and tree for enemies again.</p><p>As the pair meander down the trail, one step after another, a sense of calm and familiarity is there. The kid isn't one of his brothers, seems as wet behind the ears as most new recruits, yet there is a sense of reassurance that someone there is watching his six. And as long as they keep this “no-talking” rule, maybe having a trail companion isn't too bad.</p><p>"So tell me, what's your favorite flavor from the Crayola 12 pack?" Stormer sniggers from behind before he begins to hum the marching cadences 'Black Hat.'</p><p>With a loud groan, Ben pinches the bridge of his nose. 'fuck,' just like Afghanistan.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 3:</p><p>The bubbling noises of a quick-moving stream were the most blessed respite from the constant rambling in her head. Leave it to Rey to forget headphones on a 4-5 month backpacking trip. </p><p>The sound of the stream signaled the elusive water source she had been hunting. According to her map, when swollen the stream was supposed to only be 2 miles off the main stretch of trail west along an old forestry road. What the map didn't show her was that without this year's normal rainfall, the stream bed was in fact not swollen and bone dry at the mile marker indicated. </p><p>If water wasn't the main concern for her, she would have skipped this site and moved on further down the trail to reach the designated campsite before all spots were taken up. But according to her map, the next water source wouldn't have been for another 15 miles, and that would not do if she wanted to finally wash her face from the dried dirt caking her hairline or have water for her luxurious hiker meal of dehydrated mashed potatoes and ramen for that evening. </p><p>As Rey quickly ran up to the stream to kneel into the cool water and dunk her face in, she disregarded the lone tarp set up to her right and failed to notice the young man lounging on his sleep pad with a book in hand and headlamp on.</p><p>“Well hello to you too,” Rey hears from beside her as she continues to splash the refreshing water onto her face and scrub as much of the dust off it as her dirtied and cracked hands can allow. </p><p>“Now, I'm not an expert. But, I'm pretty sure that's not the way to keep a water source clean,” he grunts as he walks over to the side of the stream squatting beside her.</p><p>Pushing her wetted hair back out of her eyes, she quickly dries her face with the front of what was once a white button-up.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I just saw the water and I've been walking the last hour up this road, and I just..” she begins to explain looking to the person beside her. </p><p>Offering an infectious smile, “Don’t worry about it. The dirt takes some getting used to.” Offering her a small hand towel, “I'm Finn by the way.”</p><p>‘Finally a nice person,’ Rey can't help to smile back. </p><p>“Rey,” she offers while taking the towel to catch the final water droplets from sliding down her jaw. </p><p>“The dirt isn't what really bugs me. I'm used to being covered in grease and oil from the mechanic shop. It's just how it dries with the sweat and..”<br/>“Cakes to your face right?” Finn finishes for her, his initial smile morphing into a megawatt grin as his eyes light up with humor. </p><p>“Yeah, that used to get to me too. Add that to the sun leaching out any moisture in my hair and I'm willing to dive in the stream myself here.” he volunteers taking his hand towel back from her and stuffing it in his back pocket. </p><p>A quick glance at his head and she sees the silk durag wrapped around his head. She never considered how hiking and heat would affect things like that for other people. Reaching up to play with the ends of her own hair,  despite the grease coating her scalp, she can feel how brittle the ends of her shoulder-length mess had grown since leaving Campo. </p><p>“What’s your secret?” she asks.</p><p>With a jovial wink, he taps his temple, “Coconut oil. Keeps some moisture in your skin and hair, and smells way better than B.O.”</p><p>With sudden panic, Rey grabs her shirt and takes a long sniff. A musky and sour tang sticks to the roof of her mouth. She had only been around herself for so long now she hadn't stopped to consider how three days of dirt, dust, and sweat would accumulate on her. </p><p>With a quick laugh, Finn shakes his head and stands up, offering Rey his hand.</p><p>“Don't worry, pretty soon we won't be able to smell anything.”</p><p>Staring at his hand, Rey toys with the idea if she should grab it and accept his help or not. She doesn't like touching people or being touched; especially from strange men….even if they are being nice.</p><p>She must hesitate too long because Finn quickly grasps her hand and pulls her to her feet. Pure knee-jerk reaction Rey rips her hand from his grasp, “Don’t hold my hand.”</p><p>Quickly standing back with his hands up Finn immediately gave her space, “Sorry. No harm.”</p><p>“It’s ok. I just…don't like being touched.”</p><p>“Yeah, my bad. I'm a little impulsive sometimes. Shouldn't have done that”</p><p>Brushing it off with a quick smile she takes in the ‘camp’. There is a blue tarp on the group with two bedrolls laid out. One a slight mess which she assumes to be Finn’s and another is perfectly aligned; the sleeping quilt is neatly placed, a sweater and puffy jacket rolled together as a pillow at the top and a large grey hiking pack neatly beside it.</p><p>“Where is your companion?” Rey inquires now looking around scanning for another hiker. From the gear, she assumes it must be another guy. Although she should feel a little hesitant being alone with two strange men in the middle of nowhere, it also is the reality of the trail. There are other women hiking, she saw their names written in the entry book before she began, but in comparison still only about 30% of hikers on this trail were women. </p><p>“Um, he should be back here soon. He walked off to go make a cat hole away from the stream bed not too long before you barreled in.”</p><p>Finn seemed nice enough, and Rey doubts she can get to any of the established campsites before hiker-midnight. Looking around she sees a small clearing nearby just flat and big enough to fit her tent. </p><p>“You’re welcome to stay. God knows I’ve been itching for an actual conversation with someone,” Finn offers, noticing her eyeing the spot opposite from their tarp. </p><p>“That sounds great!” with a quick smile Rey immediately sets to work spreading her drop cloth and begins staking in her tent. </p><p>While Rey gets settled, Finn returns to his bedroll and starts his reading back up.</p><p>Within a few minutes, the crunching of gravel and heavy footfalls could be heard coming up the dirt road causing both Finn and Rey to look up at the newcomer. Unlike Finn who quietly returned to his reading, Rey was frozen taking in the man.</p><p>His hair is slightly grown out just barely covering his ears, the slighting patchy beginnings of a goatee. His eyes were hidden by the bill of a black baseball cap and the shadows cast by the setting sun, Rey’s heart rate picked up and she could feel the heat slowly crawling from her neck up to her face. </p><p>‘This. Prick!’ she thought, realization snapping like a tight rubber band. From his dark brown cargo pants, his sweat-drenched t-shirt, to the confidence in his gate. Not only did she recognize him as the mountain man from before that chastised her about the snake, but it was the jerk from the gear co-op!</p><p>Standing quickly to her full height, Rey thrusts out an accusatory finger in his direction. </p><p>“You!” she growls with as much malice as she can. </p><p>Jerking up from the sudden outburst and unexpected voice, Ben looked up in surprise only to meet her glare with a heated one of his own. </p><p>“You,” he spits out in disgust. This was just great, after the bitch of a trial it was just trying to find the right area far enough away from water and off the trail for his cat hole, he had to come back to camp only to find a little miss princess.</p><p>“Me!” Finn yells out with a smile; a vain attempt to quickly starve off the tension rapidly rising.</p><p>Annoyed Ben quickly shoots a look at Stormer, “Why is she here?”</p><p>“You know her?” Stormer asks in surprise, he assumed Ben didn't know anyone with his shit personality.</p><p>“She can answer for herself. I am getting water and setting up camp. What are you doing here?” Rey buts in dropping her food bag and walking up towards the bully invading his space. She didn't know Finn well, but he had been nice and seemed like the start of a good friend. She wasn't going to let this asshat bully another hiker around. </p><p>Now amused Finn directs his question towards Rey, “How do you know Kylo?”</p><p>“What?” Rey was confused, Finn was nice but a little random, “What is a Kylo?”</p><p>“He is Kylo,” Finn explains pointing towards the glaring mountain of a man standing over Rey’s petite form.  </p><p>Raising a skeptical eyebrow Rey glances up to the man in front of her. She sees him clench his jaw and blow harshly out of his nose, “How many times do I need to say it. Quit calling me that Stormer.”  His voice reminded her of a panther growling.</p><p>“And I say it is your trail name bro. Can’t change it.” Finn laughs while adjusting to get comfortable on his bed roll. </p><p>The little go between the two men diffuses the tension enough for Rey to step back and observe. She is expecting this ‘Kylo’ guy to blow up and throw an insult, only to be surprised as he clenches his fist and forces out another breath that causes his shoulders to drop and slightly relax. </p><p>With the fight leaving him, he gives one last sneer at the girl before dropping down to his own bedroll and rolling to his side using his back as a wall to close off from the two annoyances he can't seem to get rid of. </p><p>“Don't worry about him. He's just a little salty because he can’t read,” Finn jests while relaxing back into his pad. </p><p>Keeping her eyes glued to Kylo’s back as if he was just a predator feigning sleep, Rey sits down on her own pad and begins to set up her rocket stove for dinner. </p><p>“What do you mean by trail name?” she inquires while carefully pouring her newly filtered water into her pot to boil.</p><p>“You're not really supposed to use your real names out here on the trail. It's like a pseudo name for this new life or reality we are living out here on the trail cut off from the normal world. Or well….that's what the podcasts and videos always explained.” Finn describes tucking his book away to better address the conversation.</p><p>“So, it's just a name you come up with for yourself?” Rey asks skeptically. ‘What else would I go by beside Rey?’</p><p>“Nah, it's something that your trail family comes up with or another hiker bestows upon you I think.”</p><p>“But, how?” Rey quickly glances to Kylo’s still back. He seems to be breathing evenly but she doubts he is asleep. “Why the name Kylo? I mean...what even is that?”</p><p>With a quick snort, Finn smiles, “Cause our Marine buddy over here can’t read, yeah?”</p><p>“I know how to fucking read, Stormer,” Kylo supplies, still facing away from the two. </p><p>“Yeah yeah. Anyway,” Finn continues looking back to Rey, “When we first met up this jarhead didn't know how to pronounce Kilo correctly. Kept saying “Kylo.” Thus, his trail name is now Kylo forevermore.” Finn announces with pride. </p><p>Looking between the two she considers it. ‘That is a pretty fun idea.’ A new name. A new identity. A new her without the stigma of being the unwanted brat. </p><p>Smiling, “ I like it!” she announces. “So, your trail name must be Stormer then, right?”</p><p>Chuckling to himself Finn shakes his head, “Nah. Stormer is my last name. I’m also ex-military like Kylo over here. But, Army. we prefer to call each other by our last names.”</p><p>“So, you don't have a trail name yet?” Excitedly Rey leans forward thoroughly invested in where this conversation is headed. </p><p>“Not yet. Besides the big ol’ grump over here, I haven't really talked with another hiker since starting.”</p><p>“So I can name you something then right?” Rey asks, glee filling her eyes. <br/>“Uh, yeah I guess so.” Finn says slightly hesitant. He never really did like the names people had created for him too much growing up.</p><p>“Hmmm, well your last name is Stormer….so something Storm-related maybe,” Rey begins to brainstorm out loud. </p><p>“Hey now, I ain't a dog. No pet names or whatever,” Finn frowns, not quite sure where she is going with this.</p><p>“And you're also military…..what about...Storm...Storm rider?” Both Finn and Rey slightly grimace at that one.</p><p>“No….Storm...Ah, I know!” Rey perks up. “Stormtrooper! That’s pretty cool right!”</p><p>“Haha Hey! I like that!” Finn grins clearly pleased, shifting over to face Kylo’s back.</p><p>“Hear that Kylo, I'm Stormtrooper now! Gotta call me by that.” Finn brags.</p><p>“Fat chance Stormer,” Kylo shoots back while pulling further into himself. “Now would you two shut up so I can get some sleep, it's already 9 pm.”</p><p>With a final snicker from Finn and an eye roll from Rey, quiet overtakes the camp. Shortly after Finn falls asleep himself leaving Rey alone with her thoughts. As she quietly finishes her meal she can’t help smiling to herself. Although the company is questionable, it's nice to feel like she is maybe just starting to make those connections she has read so much about.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Think I am finally figuring out how I want to pace this story and work together with everyone's backstories. </p><p>Throughout this story, I will try my best to introduce people to the various culture and customs that are apart of the trail life. </p><p>As always, thank you everyone for reading and supporting this work.</p>
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